The patient is 36 years old and lives alone since his wife left him three weeks ago. She took the kids and all the silverware, except for a large knife, and a bowl, and a coffee cup. The patient admits that her leaving may have had something to do with the fact that, without warning, he completely gutted the house - tore out all the walls and ceilings, all the lathe and plaster, right down to the studs. He says he did this in order to live like a primitive. When asked if he was successful, he says it was a first step in the right direction.
The patient is a 36-year-old male who lives alone since his wife and children left him two months ago. He says there’s a darkness that separates him from other people, a heavy darkness, like looking at a person from the bottom of a well. He believes if he could say the right words, then the darkness would go away. He says he sometimes knows the right words, but cannot say them. Other times, he can’t even think of the words to say.
The patient is 36 years old, and lives alone since his wife and children left him three months ago. Last week he went fishing in the San Juanes, and now believes that there is no better fisherman than himself. He says, “I can’t tell you about it, because talking about fishing is silly, like farting and tap dancing at the same time. All I can say is: I walk around in the water, and I know the instant the fish will jump for the fly. I cut open their stomachs and squeeze out the bugs in my hand, study what they eat, how it all gets digested, even the exoskeleton and wings.”
He says he was sick before, but now he’s okay, and how it was the flyrod - just holding the rod in his hand - that cured him. His house is clean, the electricity is on, the walls have been sheet-rocked and painted white. He says, “I’ll have to ask her, beg her, and maybe she’ll come back.”
- Scott Carrier, This American Life #181